


Run

by Iamnotthewriteryourelookingfor



Series: The Ski-lift Devastation [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: One Shot, Q is Bamf!, Spoilers for SPECTRE, he needs Bond, my poor baby, ski lift, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 12:04:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5247623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iamnotthewriteryourelookingfor/pseuds/Iamnotthewriteryourelookingfor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Q didn't make such a quick getaway from the thugs in the ski lift?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run

The group of holiday goers gave Q the distraction he needed.

 

He ran.

 

He lost them when he ducked into the stairwell.

 

But only momentarily.

 

They cornered him two floors down, backing him up against the corner. Q gulped and tried to recall the training he had been given; weak points, escape tactics, routes to safety… The bald one stepped forward with a predatory look in his eyes. He reached up with one hand and pushed Q’s laptop down from where he was clutching it to his chest.

“Our boss really wants to see you, Q.” he smirked, letting Q know that there was no space to wiggle away with the ‘are you sure you got the right person’ excuse.

“Your boss?” Q asked, trying not to let his voice waver.

 

He swallowed and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

 

 _Weak points, safe exits, how to get lost in a crowd._ He couldn’t think about Bond and how Q wished he had just come along to ensure Q was safe. He could have at least used Bond’s strong presence in the ski lift, Q still didn’t like heights. And he couldn’t think about the ring or the fact that Bond was right about everything. Q only hoped that he had the chance to tell the spy.

 

 _Weak points, safe exits_ … the bald man bought the butt of his gun towards Q’s head. Q ducked it and slammed the side of his heavily padded laptop case into the man’s stomach. He doubled over, winded for a second and Q was able to knock his down the stairs. The bald man’s fate was undetermined for the moment when the other man levelled the gun at Q, barrel aimed straight at his head.

“The boss didn’t say anything about bringing you in in one piece.” He snarled. “I’m sure he won’t mind if I clip your wings a little. Maybe hobble ya, that’ll make you think twice about testing me.”

 

All Q could see was the gun barrel. He couldn’t breathe, a cold weight sat low in his stomach _.  Weak points… safe exits… **Bond**._ What would Bond do? Get drunk was the first thought that jumped into Q’s head. The second was ‘shag’. It’s not that Q had such a low opinion of James. It’s just that he had trouble thinking when a gun was pointed at his head.

 

The bald man groaned from the next landing where he had ended up. This sound distracted the man with the gun, if only momentarily. This gave Q all the time he needed. And the second man went tumbling down to meet his friend.

 

Q ran.

 

He didn’t stop until he was sure he was safely alone in his hotel room with the door firmly locked and bolted. Only then did he pause to take a breath. And only then did he feel something wet side down his neck. His hand came away red.

The gun had gone off.

 

Panic and bile rising in his throat, Q pulled off his jacket and jumper as he rushed into the bathroom. His vision was growing hazy as he grabbed a towel to dab at the wound on his neck.

It was just a graze, he needed to calm down.

It was just a graze.

“Pull it together, Q.” he told his reflection. _Pull it together. It’s just a graze._

 

Every MI6 agent received training for these types of situations and Q was no exception. He began breathing deeply, like he had been trained; in through his nose, out through his mouth. Once his heartbeat was back to normal, Q rummaged around in his bag for his first aid kit.

 

_Just a graze_

 

By the time he had finished patching himself up and clearing away the blood, there was a knock at the door.

 

It was Bond 

 

And a woman.

 

Q wanted to talk to Bond about the men at the ski lift. He wanted to shake and break down and he wanted Bond to reassure him. He wanted the spy to hold him and protect him and check his injuries. But this wasn’t a time for that. He had to be strong, like James.

 

He couldn’t say anything about what happened. Not yet anyway. Instead he said

“I owe you an apology, James.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend who was disappointed by the lack of alternative ski-lift scene endings.  
> Hope you like it :)


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